


When Reality Came Crashing Down Upon Me

by SwingBallBlues



Category: Big Bang (Band)
Genre: AND SEUNGRI IS A SHY LITTLE SHIT, Blow Jobs, Breathplay, M/M, POV First Person, Scars, Seunghyun loves Seungri's scars, Seungri has lots of scars, seungwhores, slight au!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-05
Updated: 2015-09-05
Packaged: 2018-04-19 03:24:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4731056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwingBallBlues/pseuds/SwingBallBlues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seungri's scars burn when Seunghyun touches them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Reality Came Crashing Down Upon Me

**Author's Note:**

> Seungri's POV.

He kisses the scar across my eye that runs down to my left cheek. I flinch. Not in pain, no, but merely because I hate it when he pays attention to my scars.

 

"No," I say as I gently push him away. It always makes me feel stupidly self-conscious. I am, in fact, fully naked and basically all laid-out on the bed, but nothing makes me feel more self-conscious than him looking at my scars, touching them, worrying them with his lips and teeth like they're not ugly and are completely natural.

 

My scars are a reminder of my past life, and I always try not to look back at it, though it's hard. I was, to put it into words, killing for money. I was a cleaner. A hitman. Not an occupation anyone would approve of. The life I knew was dark, and fairly, fucking _filthy_. The scars mostly came from my victims' struggle, hopeless last attempts to save themselves. Or maybe they just wanted to see me take my last breath right before their own time like it'd make a difference. It never did. I was out there, cleaning out big dogs, you see, I was one of the best. Hence my name. It's fucking narcissistic and cringe-worthy, _I know_ , but I love it. Seungri. Both an encouragement and reassurance.

 

And then one day some dull overweight businessman wanted this tall and handsome guy's head and it was supposed to be easy, supposed to go like any other job I'd finished. It didn't sound like he was a tough cookie either from the information I'd been provided with, so the chance of earning another scar was thin.

 

Choi Seunghyun, Seoul. A Choi. Rich, obviously. They always were. It didn't matter to me.

 

When I saw him in person, though, and as corny as it is, _the world fucking stopped_. My gun was pointed to his head and I had a blade in my other hand, yet he smiled at me. He actually did. He had a smile on his face like I was another welcomed guest to his white-tinted penthouse and it almost caught me off balance. I still remember everything. He had contacts on as his eyes were fucking purple, his hair blonder than blond, his dress shirt looked more expensive than my whole outfit, and he looked like the human equivalent of a dream I swear I could've had him there and then on the floor. Jesus, and we hadn't even said anything to each other yet.

 

Reality came crashing down upon me soon enough though, and it reminded me that this guy was just another job, another fat stack of cash added into my already puffed up account, so I tried to keep my cool.

 

"Any last words?" I had said.

 

I could tell from the look on his face he knew who wanted him gone. He didn't look scared, nor surprised, didn't even move a muscle when I stepped closer, pressing the gun to his temple. I remember him still having that motherfucking smile on and it almost drove me insane. My hand got slightly shaky but I quickly recovered, though he must've felt it. I know he did.

 

He brought his hand up and placed it on the handle, right above mine. He started running the tip of his long fingers along my hand and I was so out of it, so lost, but I didn't stop him. It scared the living shit out of me that I didn't want to stop him.

 

"Run away with me?"

 

Reality came crashing down upon me again, but I didn't care.

 

It was more like a rhetorical question.

 

I tossed my weapons to the floor, away from within our reach, ignoring the loud clanking of metal hitting the wood.

 

We fucked on the floor like life clung to it. I tore his shirt open and he made a little whine of protest, but I know he thought it was hot. It was rough and raw and so fucking dirty tears fell out of his eyes as I kept licking him clean. Only after a quick adjustment he started pushing down to my cock, biting my neck whilst pumping his fist on his own cock in a hasty pace.

 

He didn't even know my name.

 

He came with a grunt and a ragged moan that sent me over the edge as well, spilling into him, and it was the best I'd felt since forever. Better than when I killed my victims. Better than when I fucked whores with caked make-up and atrocious hairdos.

 

And then, because the world is _so fucked up_ , we kissed. Best damned decision I ever made.

 

He pulls his head back enough to look at me in the eye, his hazel orbs bore into mine. "Stop it."

 

I look back at him questioningly and he sighs, bringing his lips back to the side of my face. "You're beautiful. All of you. Even your scars," He murmurs, lips ghosting over the fading cut running the length of my cheek. "Especially your scars."

 

I duck my head in response, red threatening to splay across my face. I've always loved words. It's a little ridiculous regarding all the hardness on my outside physical appearance, but it's true. And I know he always takes advantage of the fact that he's too good at words, effortlessly making me blush like a teenage girl. How embarrassing.

 

"Seungri-yah." He calls and tips my chin up with his forefinger. When I look up he has the widest shark grin plastered on his face, mirroring the one he had when we first met. I've always loved that too. "I'm telling you the truth. Are you going to be fucking difficult?"

 

I feel his other hand sneaks down to my left hipbone and rubs faint circles with just the tip of his fingers. There's a scar there, too. A burn. He drags his nails along the skin and the muscles under them twitch, forcing me to close my eyes and bite my lower lip.

 

"Hyung," I begin to protest, swatting his hand. It's actually turning me on.

 

He ignores me and slides down my body instead, planting sloppy light kisses along the way and stopping at my pelvis to flick his tongue at the patch of reddening skin. I bite back a shudder, restraining my hips from jerking at the contact.

 

"So stupid," his voice is deep and hot against my skin, "I'm sick of your stupid little denial, you know I wouldn't have you any other way. The first time I laid eyes on you I thought _fuck, isn't he the most gorgeous killer ever hired to go after me_. Hell, the most gorgeous man I ever seen. You were about to pull the trigger and probably finish me with the knife and I was gonna fucking let you, you know that?"

 

Before I can say anything he bites down at the scar and I let out a pained moan, my head thrown back at the pillow that smells too much like sex. He quickly sucks at the skin and laps his tongue at it.

 

"Hyung, stop," I groan from deep in my throat. I actually kind of don't want him to, but his words are burning holes into my face. "Seunghyun, just, not on my—"

 

"Why," I feel rather than see him crack a smile, "I'm not sure you really hate it," He begins to move up and nuzzle at the left side of my torso, where another scar angrily sprawls. Another knife cut. It had been a deep and downright ghastly wound, but by now it's almost weathered by age, ugly. A tougher guy did it before I slit his throat open. "Hate this." He runs his tongue along the length of the scar and it's so hot I can't think straight.

 

"Fuck, don't," I say weakly with a tight knot in my chest. I'm pretty sure by now my face is flushed, the heat of it is almost dizzying.

 

"Aw, look at you. You're red all over, baby, just hearing me. So cute."

 

I pull him up and crashes our lips together, catching him off guard and taking the advantage to slip my tongue into his open mouth, roaming every corner I know all too well. If my words won't stop his then I know this will. I glide my tongue, tasting him, and he tastes like raspberry cocktail and menthol cigarettes. How fucking mellow, huh? 

 

I bring both of my hands up and wraps them around his neck, pressing at his adam's apple with force. He lets out a choked moan and grinds his hips, rubbing our cocks together. He loves breathplay.

 

"Seunghyun-ah," he says meekly, panting, and my cock twitches at the sound of it. 

 

I let out a heartfelt moan as I kiss him again, fiercer this time, teeth clanking and tongues clashing with no grace or patience whatsoever. I bite his lower lip and he whimpers, rutting against me. My hands start to move up to his hair, gripping tight, because I honestly feel so dazed I'm beginning to forget which way is up and I should really be hanging on to something right now.

 

He pulls away first, roughly, with an obscene sound. He shoots me a look and then places my hand back to his reddening neck, motioning me to block his airways again. "Harder. Choke me harder."

 

I do just so, twisting my hands and squeezing and his mouth falls open, his eyes shut tight in pleasure.

 

I lean up to kiss his jawline, and then suck at the skin under his chin, my grip on his neck still firm. He keeps rubbing against me, his leaking cock raw over my inner thigh. He's panting heavily, he's so hard I think he could come just like this.

 

"Fuck, Seunghyun, _please_ ," Oh, oh _shit_ , his voice is wrecked and calling me by my given name almost makes me come without even a single touch to my cock.

 

I loosen my grip and gradually let my hands fall to his shoulders when he gets too close too fast. "So hot," I say and he chuckles lowly, catching his breath. There are finger-shaped bruises on his neck now, purple with a dash of red and I tilt my head up to kiss them.

 

"You're too good. Too pretty." He finally says, his voice dropping a note too low. "Too perfect."

 

"Hyung, stop it already," I reply because I'm not putting up with him teasing me again, not tonight. My scars are honestly just scars, but they're so much more to me now more than they ever were. Looking in the mirror was never a hard thing to do, because I thought I looked intimidating and I still do, until I disappeared from the world I knew like the beating of my own heart and moved in with him, a new house, a new life. I realised just how lucky a formerly murdering fuck-up with a maimed face and body scattered with ugly scars like me could be with someone as flawless as Seunghyun. The universe is funny and so fucking mean like that.

 

He furrows his brows and in a split second turns his expression into a softer one.

 

"You fucking are," he leans up and kisses me on the lips chastely. Now I can taste the wine. It's too sweet, and every crappy Britpop love song from the 90s I used to listen to in training starts playing in my head and _damn_ , I am too far gone in this guy. How could I ever say no?

 

He pulls away, blinking with his lidded playful smile and crawls down again. I close my eyes in anticipation. I feel him nip at the scar on my hipbone suddenly, making my hips buckle involuntarily. "You really fucking are." He says in a lower voice and my eyes snap open when he takes my cock into his mouth, his lips pink and stretched over the base.

 

I feel his throat constricting rhythmically, his tongue rolling along the shaft and _Mother Lord_ , I'm gonna fucking come in 10 seconds if I keep watching him do this so I just shut my eyes, hands gripping tightly to his short white strands that match mine. He starts to bob his head, strong hands on my waist to keep me from rubbing him raw and I'm already _leaking_ , I'm so turned on my whole body is basically melting into the bed.

 

He wraps his lips around the head and gives it small teasing suck, and I really don't think I can last much longer. He brings his hand up then, to jerk along the shaft and the added friction is too much I start moaning his name loudly. "Ah, Seunghyun, fuck, Hyung, please, fuck me, ah—"

 

And at the right moment he clears his throat around me and I'm _gone_ , shouting his name, fucking his mouth through my orgasm as I feel him swallow all of my release. His hand is still milking every last of it and I'm too sensitive. I look down just in time to see him licking his swollen glistening lips and smiling, and shit, I'd be hard again if it was physically possible.

 

"Fuck," I say when my breathing's slowed down. "Oh my god."

 

He laughs and buries his face at the crook of my neck. "Sexy boy," he whispers and laughs again. He starts rubbing vaguely at the scar on the side of my body, and I know he knows I won't push him away this time. It still burns, you see, but I don't mind it anymore. Maybe I should just pretend I still don't like his compliments, though, just in case.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Aaahhh finally had a go at my favourite pairing yay! I still don't know how I feel about writing in first person though. Thanks for reading :)


End file.
